I want your desire to be insatiable. Mine is. I want to try to fulfill you in the moment, but I never want to actually succeed. I always want you to want more. More of me, more of others.
Why do I want this? I don’t know for sure. It’s just how I am. It’s my philosophy for my nonsexual life, too. I was more or less an only child growing up, to a single mom who wanted me to be EVERYTHING to her. I hated every minute of it. I then, by extension, found that I hated the idea of “best friendship.” I never found one friend who could fulfill me. I always wanted more. As an adult, I get different things emotionally from different people. I share a little, they share a little, and somehow the equation works out right. I’m no math expert, but I’m good at this kind of emotional equation.
Up until a few months ago, I never had applied the equation to sexuality. I literally never thought about it. I banished the concept from my mind long ago, when Mark and I first got together. Honestly, maybe even before that. But it goes for sex too, with me. Being ALL to someone scares the shit out of me. I don’t know how I went so long without admitting it to myself. But when I opened up that Pandora’s box last January, well, it’s the first thing that I pulled out. Trying to be everything to someone feels like setting myself up for failure. And if I am your only, and I fail you, where does that leave us?
More is sexier. It’s also scarier. There are tons of risks at stake. Emotional entanglement, STDs, jealousy, anger. But when it comes down to the basic reality of attraction for me, more just turns me on. I don’t want to be everything to you. You don’t have to be everything to me. You are good the way you are.
So go ahead, be insatiable.